


The Dynamic Proposal

by iris0302



Category: Ironman, Loki - Fandom, Marvel, TonyStark - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 20:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iris0302/pseuds/iris0302
Summary: When Loki shows up at Tony Stark’s house asking for help, Tony’s world gets flipped upside down.From lost friends to not-so-dead enemies, this is an action-packed adventure of friendship and pain... and maybe a little bit of flirting.“You're a villain, Loki. Like Hell I'd ever work with you."THIS IS NOT IRONFROST !!!It is a 'best friend' relationship, rather than sexual or romantic. In this, Tony is very happy with Pepper. However, he is a very flirty person by nature. Any flirting that can and will be written is consensual, but WILL NOT LEAD TO A RELATIONSHIP. Sorry to disappoint! <3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Dynamic Proposal! All story points and plot twists are MINE, but the characters are not. Tony and Loki team up on a death-defying adventure in search of the Master Sword. Will they learn to get along, or kill each other in the process?

I like to think I'm a pretty normal person-- given my circumstances. Emphasis on 'pretty,' of course. Aside from growing up as the rich boy that everyone wanted to be, I'm just like everyone else. Besides the superhero suit, of course. That's a very large factor.

The more I talk about this, the more I'm realizing I'm not so normal. Am I complaining? Sometimes. Do I care? Obviously. Often times I wish I never became Iron Man. Lying awake next to Pepper in late hours of the night, my mind drifts to what I would be without that chunk of metal in my basement. Well-- the 49 chunks of metal... give or take. 

Pepper constantly begs me to leave that life behind; to settle down with her and have a family. But despite my constant wonderings of what could've been without 'Iron Man,' I know deep in my heart I'm nothing without the arc reactor in my chest. (It's keeping me alive, but you know what I mean.) So every time Pepper mentions the idea of a simple life, I shoot her down. I see it slowly breaking her heart, don't get me wrong, but if I gave in, I'd be broken.

It's been a couple of months since Peter Parker rejected the suit I'd made for him. I kind of envy the kid-- I wish I had the balls to stand up to someone like me. He's a good kid, and I try to keep in touch when I can. Pepper does it more often than I do... she's clearly taken a liking to the Spider-Boy. I sometimes catch myself smiling when thinking about it, leaning back in my plush leather chair. When I say plush, I mean I literally feel like I'm sitting on a cloud. I could spend years in that chair-- well if it doubled as a toilet I could. Nevertheless, this story isn't about the chair in my office, no matter how much I wish it was. 

Remember when I told you my life isn't all that normal? That's the definition of an understatement. I know a god-- two of them actually. You probably remember Thor. Big, blond giant? Kind of ditsy? Heartthrob? No, I'm not swooning-- yet. Regardless, he has a brother. Adopted, which he stresses immensely. His brother's name is Loki, and if you've stuck around since 2012, you know exactly who I'm talking about. 

Loki is the black-haired, skinny psychopath who tried to take over the world six years ago. Though he almost destroyed all of New York City, we all have something to thank him for. Without him, there wouldn't be an Avengers. Granted, Captain America is a bit of an asshole, which means it's no longer a thing, but it was. For a few years. And I hate to admit it, but the slimeball who tried to kill me and everyone I care about gave me a sense of purpose. A place to belong. I would never admit it to his face, but he changed my life.

At least, that's what I would've said six months ago.

Loki showed up at my doorstep six months ago to the day. The sky was clear-- which was good. If it had been a thunderstorm, I think the guy would've peed himself. It was a normal day, I'd just finished up in the workshop with some prototypes I was planning on introducing at a press conference. Pepper was at work, probably bossing a Stark Industries employee around (that's my girl!) so I had the house to myself. As I was pouring a good-old 2 pm glass of whiskey, I heard a soft knock on the door. It wasn't like I had many friends, so I brushed it off as a salesman or a Girl Scout. I stayed quiet and flopped on the couch. After a minute, the knock came again, harsher this time. I froze, mid-sip. I like to brag about my danger senses. I know the moment when something isn't right. Unfortunately, that normally doesn't coincide with my common sense, and I tend to make stupid decisions more often than I'd like to admit. 

"FRIDAY," I mumbled tapping on the piece lodged in my ear. 

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" FRIDAY said, in a slightly robotic voice. I created FRIDAY to be more human-sounding than JARVIS, my old AI. If you've kept up with the news, you'd remember Vision, the kind of sunburnt-alien superhero that fought with us in Sokovia? Yeah, that's my old pal JARVIS.

Traitor. 

"Front door cam, live feed," I requested, keeping my voice as low as possible. The knock had come a third time, and it was clear the person at the door wasn't the patient type. My senses were heightened as I lightly set the last sip of whiskey down on the glass table in front of me. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, but it seems the front door cam's footage has been blocked," FRIDAY said in my ear after a moment of silence. I cursed. 

"Reboot."

"Reboot failed. Would you like to try again?" Her singsong voice, no matter how calming it was trying to be, was just pissing me off. I turned the earpiece off in one swift motion, rising from the sofa. My least favorite thing to do in a sketchy situation was to go in blind, but it seemed like my only option at that point. Being a very paranoid person tends to pay off in my line of work, so I don't think it would surprise you if I said I had weapons hidden all over the house. This included a button-like device under the plant at the front door. 

I crept towards the plant-- Pepper's favorite, a Belladonna Lily-- silently thanking myself for not having a glass front door. It was a thick, sturdy wooden one with four separate locks on it. When I say I'm paranoid, I mean it. I reached the pink flower, lifting the pot up slowly. The knocking was constant now, turning more into banging as the seconds ticked by. My hand closed around the device. It was about the size of a USB and square, but when I pressed it, metal whirred to life. The button expanded, shrowding my hand into a glove that resembled the repulsor on my Iron Man suit. It whirred with energy, and the knocking ceased almost immediately. I knew the person on the other side of that door had to recognize the sound. Which means I'd met them before. My pulse was racing as I raised my arm out straight, aiming it at the door.

I took a large step forward, preparing for the worst. Was it an old enemy that had somehow escaped prison and found my address? Was it a new villain who specifically wanted to kill me? There were a lot of those, so I wouldn't be too surprised. Either way, I knew the person behind the door was not my friend. If they wanted to kill me? To be determined. I inhaled sharply, before swinging the door open, and pointed my charged palm at the intruder.

"Well then," Loki said, smirking. He slowly raised his hands on either side of his head in a surrendering motion. It took me a moment to even recognize him. "It seems your 'Welcome' mat means just the opposite." He poked the mat with the toe of his shiny black shoe, before meeting my gaze once again. "Hello, Stark. Care to invite me in? It's quite chilly out here."


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki arrives at Tony’s house. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two! I have already published this story on Wattpad, so go give me a follow: iris_0302... I update there before I do here. Enjoy!

"Your house is... quaint, Stark," Loki said, with his hands folded delicately in front of him. I stood at the front door still, silently wishing I never let this weasel in my house. His mocking tone wasn't doing great things for my insecurities, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of saying anything. 

Loki looked very different from the last time I saw him. Granted, he was a serial killer and a maniac the last time we'd met, so there was really nowhere to go but up. The bags under his eyes that I clearly remembered were gone. His skin was clear-- almost glowing. His long, black hair had grown out a few inches and seemed softer. All in all, Loki-- what do the kids say these days?-- 'glew up?'

I'd be a rotten lair if I said he wasn't attractive.

I had almost forgotten how tall the man was, too. If I had to guess, he was at least half a foot taller than me. I had to look up at him to meet his eyes, if that gives a good visual. Aside from the obvious physical changes, he also had different attire. If I had to describe his outfit, I would say it's "red-carpet ready." He was wearing an all-black suit that hugged his arms. No tie, and the top two buttons were undone. I averted my gaze when he caught me staring at him-- couldn't let him have a bigger head than he already did, right?

The confusion of having him in my house was overwhelming, to say the least. I never really expected the God of Mischief to be standing awkwardly in my living room on an afternoon like this-- or any afternoon, let's be real. He was also looking like a snack. (FRIDAY told me I used that term properly, but I'm really not sure.)

Turning my back to Loki, I pressed the button on the inside of my repulsor to disassemble it and watched as it reformed into a small button. If Loki wanted to attack me, he would have already. He needed something from me. I could feel the god's gaze burning into the back of my neck, but I refused to turn around. This was my house. He showed up at my door. I was going to make the rules, and he'll feel like the awkward one. He said something else, but I was so focused on ignoring him, I didn't comprehend it. I set the button down on the plant, before turning around and walking towards the kitchen. I could still feel Loki's eyes on me, but I made no move to meet his gaze. 

All was silent as I poured another glass of whiskey-- twice as much as my previous one. Loki hadn't said anything else, which I only assumed meant he was waiting for me to speak. Good. I was in charge now. 

"So," I began, gulping the whole drink down in one go. "Not to sound ungrateful, of course, but why are you in my house, Loki?" I met his eye for the first time since I let him through the door. He stood in front of a large window adjacent to the front door, leaning against the TV stand. His eyes matched the sky behind him exactly. Loki knew he was intimidating-- I knew he was intimidating. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of us, but I squared my shoulders nevertheless.

He stood there silently for another moment, a shadow casting over the top of his face. His eyes looked me over once, sizing me up. If it came down to a fight, I wasn't sure who would come out victorious. He took his hands out of his pockets, standing up straight. I tried to hide my discomfort, but I knew I was failing miserably when I saw the corner of his mouth rise slightly. He was toying with me. In my own home. I scowled, resting my elbows on the counter. 

Loki began to cross the room-- which only took him about three long strides. As he meandered, he let his eyes roam my house. I saw them linger on the pictures of me and Pepper, but his face remained stoic. He stopped when he was right in front of me, before doing something I didn't expect. 

He rested his elbows on the counter too. Directly in front of me. If I had leaned forward just slightly, we would have touched noses.

This asshole was mocking me. 

My scowl deepened and I felt my face heat up. Was he imitating me to get on my nerves? My blood was boiling at this point, and I stood straight up, almost knocking my glass on the floor. I would have too-- if Loki hadn't reached out and grabbed it. His reflexes were lightning fast, and I stood there in awe as he delicately set the glass back on the surface in front of me. His smug smile had returned. 

"Either answer the question or leave," I hissed, swiping the glass. My grip was so tense I almost crushed it as I was holding it. Loki looked taken aback, but he quickly recovered his stoic gaze. His signature smirk returned and he looked at my white knuckles.

"Who would have guessed," he said, pointing a long finger at my hand clamped around the cup. "Tony Stark has anger issues." He laughed briefly, before shaking his head. It took all my willpower not to chuck the cup at his noggin. It would have been so satisfying to leave a dent in the guy's skull. But, I refrained. It would only build on his unfathomable idea that I had anger issues. I don't. Clearly. 

"I don't want to be on your bad side, Stark. I came to ask for your help."

I physically recoiled at his statement. Out of all the things Loki Odinson could have said, that was the last one I was expecting. The God of Mischief needed my help? This had to be some sort of trick. Some stupid joke. I was tempted to ask FRIDAY if it was April 1st-- but I knew it wasn't. As much as I didn't trust the man sitting in front of me, there was an air of truth to his words. I refused to believe anything that came out of his mouth, though. 

He was the perfect definition of a manipulator. I feel bad for his girlfriend-- if he even had one. 

Loki was playing with his nails, picking off the chipped black paint that decorated them. I realized he was enjoying the situation-- my confusion, my distaste. 

But my curiosity as well. 

After a long moment of deliberation, I came to a sudden verdict. Loki seemed to sense it as well, and he returned his attention towards me. His cool, blue eyes only validated my next choice of words. 

"You're a villain, Loki. Like Hell I'd ever work with you."


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki makes his proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Here’s chapter three. Hope you enjoy!

Loki, much to my dismay, didn't seem surprised at my decision. I would have felt much more accomplished if he had, but he didn't seem the least bit fazed. 

"What a shame," he replied, shaking his head. He began to walk toward the door, swinging his hips with each step. He was taunting me, still. I growled under my breath, forcing myself not to care as he meandered to the exit. Any person with a quarter of the brain cells Loki had could tell I was curious. I'm just a helpful person in general, I kept saying to myself. But I knew my motivation to hear Loki's proposal ran a lot deeper than being a good citizen. I sighed, but didn't retract my statement. He'd probably run along to another one of the Avengers after he left here-- my decline of his proposition surely wasn't going to stop him.

"There would have been something in it for you too, Stark," He quipped, resting his hand on the doorknob. I felt my body go stiff. Something in it for me? What could Loki possibly have that would benefit me? Money? I'm well off. Power? We see how well that worked out for him in 2012. An escort? I physically shook the thought out of my brain. 

Loki was many things, but surely not a prostitute... right? 

I returned my attention to the trickster, feeling my face grow warm. It was a gross thing to think about... but I can't always control how my brain works. It's all numbers, algorithms, and sexual things-- if you ever wanted to know what the brain of Tony Stark was like, there you go. I can't definitively say how many times Pepper whacked me on the back of the head for a sexual joke. He had one foot through the doorframe, but that didn't matter to him. Loki already knew he had me hooked on his probably-crazy plan. 

When you pique my curiosity, there's really nothing I wouldn't do. 

"Wait," I said defeatedly, rubbing my temples with the tips of my fingers. I could feel the victorious smirk radiating from the god's face as I heard the door close once again. Pepper always told me I was a pushover, but I didn't really believe her until now. 

However, having Loki in my house wasn't completely a burden. The majority of it was, don't get me wrong, but I was using his manipulation to my advantage. I'm just badass like that. For example, I was slowly profiling him by the little things he did. I was creating a mental file in my head. 

Labeled: Dickwad. 

Believe it or not, I did that for all of the people I don't trust. For example, I have one stashed away for the one and only Captain America. That's right-- I didn't trust that Star-Spangled Asshole for a second... still really don't, but that's beside the point. 

Actually, that's what his metaphorical file is labeled--'Star-Spangled Asshole.' It's where I kept every detail I learned about Steve Rogers. For example, did you know Rogers likes Britney Spears? Completely random, I know, but you'd be surprised how many times I glanced into his room at the compound and saw him dancing to Toxic. 

Since I know you're curious, I'll share a few other mental storage spaces. 

Natasha Romanoff? 'Russia's Redhead,' reads the last page of a book first. Sometimes, she gets so angry at the ending, she refuses to read the rest of the book. I choose not to say anything, because she didn't talk to me for a week after I did. She also really hates spoilers. We once had to physically restrain her from killing Vision after he spoiled the ending of Batman vs. Superman. For three months after that, Natasha deliberately tried to short circuit Vision when no one was looking. I very quickly came to trust her, so I had no use for the file.

It was very eerie how many things Loki did that matched up with Thor's file. For example, they both touched the ends of their hair when they were anxious about something. They both also folded their arms in front of them-- a sign of regalness. I wondered which parent they learned that from. 

Finally-- and the most recent one I'd added-- was that Loki moved very silently. Too silently to be heard by the untrained ear. He seemed to float across the wood floor of my house, which creaked with every step I took. 

He stopped in front of me once again, and I looked up at him. 

"Tell me your proposal, Loki, and make it fast. I'm not really a patient person." He laughed at my statement, leaning up against the back of my couch. He propped himself up with the palms of his hands and crossed his feet-- he was trying to show me he was comfortable; that he was in charge. I felt my blood boil, but I once again chose not to say anything. Instead, I let him speak. 

"It's quite a funny story," Loki began, meeting my eyes. His tone was playful and light, but for some reason, I didn't believe I would find his story very funny. "In a strange twist of events, I became the King of Asgard a little over five years ago. My father chose to... retire, to put it in simpler terms. He passed the burden on to me-- that which I have had to carry for half a decade now." His intonation had become morose, like ruling an entire planet was a disastrous thought. I rolled my eyes, but he was too invested in his story to even notice. 

"I was a fantastic King, for a time," he continued, smiling. "But then, something quite tragic happened. Heimdall, my gatekeeper, vanished without a trace. The sword that was entrusted to him had also been deemed missing and, well, that's just not good for me. I look like the irresponsible one in this situation, don't I?" His question was clearly rhetorical, so I didn't say anything. I was obviously familiar with Heimdall-- Thor had casually mentioned him once or twice-- so I wasn't too doubtful of Loki's story. Still, I allowed him to finish.

"I traced him here-- to Midgard. This was the last place he was seen before disappearing, seemingly into thin air. I need that sword, Stark. It would be nice to find that old man too, of course." He waved the man off like he was some salesman in a Farmer's Market. I scowled. "And I, Loki, would be the savior that all of the Asgardians have been waiting for!" He grinned triumphantly, looking up at the ceiling. Obviously, he was a proud, greedy bastard-- but none of his speech seemed fictitious. 

"Okay," I said, drawing out the word. I was trying to make it very clear I thought he was nutso, but the message didn't seem to stick. I stood there silent for a moment, waiting for him to remove himself from his crazy fantasy. Loki hadn't changed much in the way he acted-- he wanted to be in charge. He wanted to be viewed as the hero. But, one question remained to be seen--

"What's in it for me?" I asked, snapping him out of his daydream. By the way he described this sword, I expected something grand. If he failed to surprise me with his next choice of words, the deal was off the table. I gestured for him to continue. 

"Oh, yes of course," he deadpanned, brushing me off. "If you help me find this sword, I swear to the gods I will leave Earth alone-- permanently."


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony can’t refuse Loki’s deal. Can you blame him? The man is a sociopath... right?

I walked the packed streets of New York City alongside Loki. That was probably the weirdest sentence I've ever written— who'd have thought I would be strolling on the sidewalk with a mass murderer? Cute date. I rolled my eyes at the thought.

After Loki finished his proposal, there was no way I could have passed up the opportunity. The fact that he wasn't put to death on Asgard after 2012 was a mystery to me— he deserved much more. I almost died— does no one care? He had no right to be on my planet after that, and if it meant going on some stupid quest... I guess I was thrown into a stupid video game. 

I quickly accepted his offer— which, of course, he wasn't surprised about— and packed a bag. It wasn't anything much. I didn't figure I would be gone for too long, so I threw a few shirts, a couple of pairs of pants, and a small case that harbored my Iron Man suit. Before I zipped up the backpack, I gently rested a framed photo of Pepper and me on top. 

In the photo, she wore a black satin dress. I remembered that dress clearly— she'd only wore it once, because she felt "too exposed." I thought she'd looked stunning. The zipper was towards the middle of her back, so she'd asked me to zip it up for her. I recalled the lavender smell of her hair as I rested my chin on her shoulder, slowly zipping her dress as I stood behind her. She wore heels that night as well— black stilettos— that made her a little taller than me. In the picture, I wore a gray suit, accompanied by a red tie. It was the night of a mutual friend's wedding. 

She looked so beautiful.

I closed the back, trying to keep the memory of the way she smelled in my mind. She never wanted me to go on these crazy missions— and here I was, leaving without her even knowing.

I wrote her a note. It wasn't the best thing I could've done, but I couldn't bear to see her face when I told her I was leaving again.

I made sure I didn't say goodbye in the letter. If I said goodbye, I would start to believe I wasn't coming back. I didn't even know what I was facing yet! Maybe this guy we were searching for decided to vacation in Bora Bora, and he left this stupid sword in a safety deposit box. As easy as that would be, I've never been that lucky. 

Hey Pep, I began, scribbling hard with a red pen that didn't want to work. I was in a rush-- Loki was waiting impatiently in my living room still. I'm okay, I promise. Please don't be mad at me when you're reading this-- you're the most beautiful person in the world and I love you. I'll be gone for a week-- two at most-- so please don't worry about me. I had an old f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶ colleague stop in town, and he needed my help. I silently cursed as I reread the note. It was poorly written, but just enough to prove I wasn't abducted. I hope. I quickly signed it, 'I love you. Tony,' before leaving it on the bedside table. 

Her side of the bed was neat and tidy, almost as if she'd never even slept there the night before. Mine was a bit of a mess-- and by 'bit of a mess,' I mean 'a complete disaster.' I threw the corner of the wrinkled comforter over my pillow before smoothing the whole thing out. One less thing for her to be absolutely pissed at me for. I scanned the room one last time, checking to see if there was anything I was forgetting. Toothbrush? Check. Backup battery for the suit? Check. I purposely chose to leave my phone stashed away in one of the drawers-- the last thing I needed was for Pepper to track it and follow me. When I was absolutely certain that there was nothing else I needed, I exited the bedroom to meet Loki. 

He didn't seem annoyed I took a while-- very uncharacteristic for him. We set out on foot shortly after, and we walked for about twenty minutes. By then, we were in the middle of the city, and Loki hadn't told me anything about our destination. I silently wished I'd eaten breakfast that morning, growing more and more anxious the father we walked. 

Normally when I was walking down the street, I was the center of attention. Not to brag, but I was kind of famous. I had children and adults alike stopping me to take photos. I didn't mind it, of course, but it was always strange when it didn't happen. This was one of those times. I would make eye contact with a few people as we glided past them, but each person we passed seemed much more invested in Loki than they were in me. That sounds extremely self-centered, I know, but it was weird. 

Thirty minutes into our walk, we passed a group of teenage girls. There were three of them-- each about sixteen. As we walked by, all of them stared at Loki-- who smirked at them. ONe of the girls squealed, and the other two giggled. I turned my attention to the god beside me, who already seemed to have forgotten their existence.

"Two questions," I said to Loki, holding up two fingers. He raised his eyebrow but didn't open his mouth. "First question: what the Hell was that?" I emphasized the word 'Hell,' which made Loki chuckle. He smoothed the collar of his suit with the palms of his hands, looking straight in front of him. 

"My mother was quite the witch," he said, his smile faltering. I pretended not to have seen anything as he continued. "She taught me a thing or two about how to show people what they want to see." I raised my eyebrows, but he didn't say anything more. I rolled my eyes-- Loki? Not answering a question of mine fully? Who would've thought? I decided to push this matter a little farther. 

"What do you mean? Those girls back there didn't see what I'm seeing?"

"Precisely," Loki replied, smirking. "Illusion is one of my specialties-- with that, comes glamor." He wiggled his fingers in front of him, his eyes glistening. "To you, I look like I'm in my mid-twenties-- which, technically, is what I am in human-years. In reality, I'm about, oh, 1051?" I whistled, and he smiled. I would have guessed him to be about 24, he was right about that. I definitely wasn't expecting him to be older than the fall of the Roman Empire.

"However, to that group of young ladies, I looked like this." All of a sudden, his appearance began to morph. After a bright flash of green, he looked completely different. His height stayed the same, but not much else did. His hair looked like it was chopped off-- short enough that I could see his ears. It was parted in the center, swooping down to touch his temples on either side. His face had become younger-looking-- I'd say he'd looked about seventeen. His cheekbones were still very defined, but less than they were before. Aside from his physical changes, his clothes had become more millennial as well. He now wore a tight-fitting black shirt, layered under a leather jacket. A green flannel was tied around his waist above a pair of ripped, black jeans. On his feet looked to be a pair of black Doc Martens. 

"What the Hell," I mumbled under my breath, stopping in the middle of the street. Loki smirked again, but continued to walk. I ran to catch up with him, baffled.

"Close your mouth, Stark. You'll catch flies." Loki said, returning to his original form in another brilliant flash of green. I brought my lips together, still in some form of shock. No one else seemed to have noticed the shape-shifting man in the street, so I assumed Loki had only shown his spectacle to me. "Since that seemingly answered your first inquiry, what was the second?"

I had so many more questions than just one, but I bit my tongue. It wasn't often I got a direct answer out of Loki like that, so I didn't really want to push it. 

"Where are we going?" I asked, swallowing hard. "That-- that was my second question."

Loki grinned mischievously. Normally it wouldn't have bothered me, but now that I knew he could turn me into a toad at any given moment, I was slightly on edge.

"You're too tense, Stark," the witch said, making eye contact with me. "Just trust me."


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki leads Tony into an alley, where he discovers some shocking news.

I'm not a very trusting person. Clearly. I've stated that fact, what, three times this story? I can't just willy-nilly expect someone not to kill me-- or get me killed-- especially if that person is a known murderer. Not to mention, that known murderer would surely push me in front of a bus to save his own skin.

So why the Hell was I following Loki into a sketchy alleyway ten minutes out of town? God only knows, right? When I say this alley was sketchy, I mean full on 'drug deal, someone gets shot' sketchy. I was silently praying to any God that existed for me not to die. 

'Please, God,' I thought, broadening my mind; or whatever the Hell religious people do. 'I'm helping this psychopath out of the good of my heart, don't let it kill me.' I almost laughed out loud. 'Good of my heart?' Lying to God surely results in some type of punishment. 

I was hoping not death. 

Still, I entered that dingy alley fully preparing to die. The stones were wet and slippery, causing my black boots to go sliding out from underneath me. I managed to catch myself-- very gracefully, might I add-- but Loki still found it humorous enough to laugh at me. I scowled in return before we began to walk again. Slower this time.

The space to move was limited. The whole opening was about ten feet across, which meant Loki and I continuously bumped shoulders as we walked. I still couldn't see the end of the path, as it was masked in a well-placed fog. Go figure, right? There was a faint smell of mildew that shrouded my nose, but was completely canceled out when I caught a whiff of Loki's cologne. 

That man smelled like a god-- no pun intended. I couldn't quite place the smell, but I made a mental note to ask him about it when I didn't feel like I was in mortal danger. 

"Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?" I pressed, glancing in Loki's direction. He shook his head softly before placing his index finger to his lips.

Quiet.

Now, I don't fully trust the man, but I kind of believed him when he told me to shut the Hell up. I complied, of course. I didn't forget that my main goal here was to not die. His steps became very soft, no longer echoing off of the stone walls. Loki knew something I didn't-- per usual. That guy was really starting to piss me off. I tried to take lighter steps as well; if there was something at the end of this alley that the God of Mischief didn't like, I sure as Hell wasn't going to find it a walk in the park.

We walked for about another three minutes in total silence. Nothing seemed like it was going to jump out and eat my face, but I never knew. However, I was getting extremely impatient. I had to have some form of ADD, because I can't stay quiet and do nothing for an extended period of time. It physically pained me to do so. So you can imagine the agony I was feeling being forced to keep my mouth shut for that long.

"Loki, w--" I began, but he clamped a hand over my mouth. Before I could even comprehend his movement, Loki had shot behind me and wrapped an arm over my shoulder. His fingers were cold against my face, but I could sense the panic radiating through his skin. What could he be so afraid of down here? I didn't move a muscle, and neither did he. After a moment, I thought we were safe.

Then, the metaphorical crap hit the metaphorical fan. 

Two men launched themselves seemingly out of the sky. Another crashed through a rusted window to my right, and I heard a fourth take the safety lock off a gun behind me. Each figure was covered head to toe in black-- accompanied with a nifty little ski mask. 

So much for not getting murdered today!

To add on to the black attire, all four of the people also had automatic weapons. With the slightest move, I could have four bullets in my head within a second. Loki removed his hand from my mouth, inching away from me slowly. In my peripheral, I saw him come to a stop to my left with his hands raised next to his face. 

I'm not one to lay down and take it, so, you know, I didn't do that. Instead, I delicately began to reach my hand behind me. My plan was to grab my Iron Man repulsor out of my bag, point it, and blast these assholes into next Tuesday. It was a slight movement, so none of the four army men seemed to see it. But Loki did. He made dead eye contact with me, before shaking his head. It was a small move-- I almost believed I'd never even seen it. But I knew I did. I lowered my hand and kept my mouth shut.

The tallest of the Four Horsemen stepped forward, his pistol aimed at Loki's head. The god kept his cool-- I didn't even see a flicker of panic shoot across his face. He just cocked his head and smiled. The man in black was about Loki's height, if not a little bit taller. He had a stocky build, looking like he weighed about 200 pounds. The only other feature I could see were his piercing blue eyes, which were also trained on Loki.

"State your name and business," the man said in a low, gruff voice. Loki lowered his hands, placing both of them in his pants pockets. The man kept a close eye on them but didn't react. He was so sure that if Loki had a gun in his pocket, he could take him. He was probably right-- I smiled weakly at his other three goons. 

"We're here to set up a meeting with the Boss," Loki said calmly, jutting his chin out to a spot behind the man's shoulder. "Is he free for tea?" he finished. I snorted, which received a harsh gaze from Mr. Strong Man. I pursed my lips.

"And your name?" the man asked again.

"Loki," he replied. "Loki of Asgard. My name's on the list."

I'm guessing the list was metaphorical, but it worked. Almost as if a switch was flipped, the man in the ski mask's eyes widened. The remaining three goonies lowered their weapons as if they were in shock. I looked around. A rising tension was in the air-- as if Loki's name drop caused all the power to shift to him. I believed it had. 

"Sorry for the trouble," the man said weakly, sounding about ten years younger. "Of course the Boss is free." For the first time, the man shifted his attention to me. I smiled, awkwardly waving.

"Tony Stark, huh?" he questioned. "Strange taste in friends, Hoss," he said, addressing Loki. He never took his eyes off me, however, almost as if he was looking at a ghost. It was odd-- just because I'd arrived with Loki, these guys were scared of me too.

"I don't know how happy Aldrich Killian will be to see him, but I'll take you to him anyway."


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian is alive, and Loki failed to mention that. Can Tony keep his cool on the way to meet his old rival, or will he finally run away from this crazy adventure?

"I'm sorry, did you just say Aldrich Killian?" I asked, feeling my toes curl. The last time I'd heard that name, the love of my life almost died. 

If you've been living under a rock for the past six years, Killian was the CEO of Advanced Idea Mechanics, a rival company of Stark Industries for the whole time I was the owner. Killian and I had spoken a few times before 2013, and I called him an associate. A friend, even. 

Then, when I made Pepper CEO, Killian swooped in for the kill. Turns out, Mr. Do-Gooder wasn't the saint he portrayed himself as. He was uncovered as a developer of Extremis-- a program that modified humans into super soldiers. He was a terrorist-- and Pepper was blinded by him for a time. They became close-- too close for my liking. I thought I would lose her and turns out I almost did-- in more ways than one. Killian kidnapped her an injected her with the serum-- a serum that killed a majority of the applicants it was introduced into. 

Pepper and I worked in tandem to take him down for good-- or so I thought. For the past six years, I'd let myself believe that Aldrich Killian was nothing more than a pile of ash. It felt like a bullet to the chest now that I knew otherwise. Out of all the villains I'd faced-- Obadiah Stane, Ivan Vanko, Ultron, even Loki-- Killian had to be the worst. He didn't have superpowers or a gigantic Iron suit or the ability to mind control, but he was manipulative. He was a liar. I still had nightmares about him.

Now that I had to speak to him face to face again? I felt my blood boil. If I was a cartoon character, I would have had smoke coming out of my ears. (Side note, how cool would that be?)

"Yeah Hoss, is that going to be a problem?" The Tall Guy said. I saw his finger tense around the trigger of his gun, and I quickly shook my head. It was bad to see Killian, but it was even worse to be six feet under. I looked to my left to see Loki eyeing me intently. He saw my sudden change in emotion. I caught his eye, clenching my jaw. 

"Make this fast," Loki said, returning his attention to the masked man almost immediately. He had no trouble maintaining his cool appearance. He took his hand out of his pocket, flicking his wrist a couple of times. The group of goons all turned out their heels simultaneously, before marching in the direction we'd been traveling in minutes prior. Loki and I walked behind them. 

For the first time in half a decade, I was preparing myself to come face to face with the biggest jackass I'd ever met. 

This was going to be interesting.  
_________________________

After another five minutes of walking, (this had to be the longest alley I'd ever encountered)we reached a large, metal gate. It was nothing too exciting. The gate was about fifteen feet high, twelve feet wide. The tops of each bar were spiked, and upon further examination, I realized the 'spikes' were flames. Apparently, Killian embraced the fire Pepper and I killed him in. What a good sport. 

A shorter goon, the one that brought up the back of the pack, spoke something into a watch on his wrist. After another moment, the gate slowly began to creep open. I tried to catch Loki's eye again, but he kept his gaze straight ahead. He knew what we were facing, but he didn't bother to tell me. He had to have known about Killian and my past, yet he refused to warn me. I narrowed my eyes before continuing the treck with the group.

We entered the gate, and what laid behind me left me speechless.

It was like an entire city behind the flame gate. The space to walk widened tenfold and a cacophony noise echoed against the stone walls. Small shops lined the walkway, and at least sixty people perused the merchandise. I made the note that most of the people we passed were wearing some form of leather. Each face I'd focused on had shifty eyes and a stone-cold expression. I turned my gaze to what was being sold, and my eyes widened. 

The booths were small, about 10 feet on each side. They were covered by black tarps and had a large table set up at the front of each. It was like a farmer's market, but they weren't selling apples or homemade jewelry. 

There were guns. Weapons of all shapes and sizes. I picked out grenades and a very large bazooka as well. At one booth, a tall woman with a shaved head was bargaining for a blue liquid in a glass vial. The man selling had about sixteen other vials set up on his table, ranging from fiery red to clear and smokey. 

Loki had brought me into a black market.

"What is all this?" I said, before clamping my mouth shut. I wasn't really in the place to be asking questions, but my mouth worked faster than my brain. The heavier-set man who'd spoken to Loki outside the gate turned towards me. His eyes were full of amusement as he looked at me. 

"For the past five years, the Boss has worked to set up an off-the-grid weapons dealership," the guy explained, throwing his hands out on either side of him. I recoiled-- he'd almost whacked me across the face with his pistol. The guy didn't seem to notice, so I had no other choice than to continue walking. I kept my distance from that point on. "As you can see, his plan excelled."

Clearly. There were more happy customers on either side of me than I would have liked. I had to force myself not to go all superhero on their asses. It would have been so satisfying to shoot a huge repulsor blast and blow this place to Hell-- but I still didn't know why Loki wanted to meet with Killian. I really needed to figure that out. Why he would keep this from me; what was so important that he would risk jeopardizing our partnership.

The market ended after another half a dozen shops, and the ides walkway was replaced with tall buildings. The end of the road neared before I could even comprehend it. We faced a large building, bigger than the rest. It was still made completely out of stone, but it was twice as wide. The front door was iron with a control panel on the left. The masked goons halted, turning towards Loki and me. 

"End of the line, Hoss," The big guy said to Loki. "Killian is in there. You sure you want a meeting with him?" Loki nodded, lips pursed. For the first time since the mention of Killian, the god turned towards me. There was something behind his eyes and it took me a moment to place it. 

His expression was the same as Pepper's when I talked about my parents. Sympathy. 

"Alright, then," the man said, and I returned his attention to him once again. He had already begun typing in a long passcode to the panel. After a final beep and a loud click, he turned towards us. "Walk on in, Killian's sure to be happy to see you."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is in the same room as Aldrich Killian and he can’t stop his blood from boiling. A pretty lady makes an appearance.

The room behind the door was massive. Imagine a penthouse apartment, but with 10% of the windows and covered in a thick layer of cement. Also, there was an added perk of torches lining the walls. Where were we, a dungeon? Charming, I know. The ceiling was about thirty feet above my head, rounding out in the middle like a dome. Thick columns held it up in each corner of the room. Aside from the decoration, the whole room was an ashy shade of gray. I risked another glance at Loki. He was already looking at me, which was surprising. I studied his face for some form of emotion but quickly gave up. I did notice, however, that his eyes were no longer a deep shade of blue. Instead, they'd morphed to be the same color as the walls on every side of us. He smiled at me-- genuinely smiled-- before facing forward again. I chose to do the same.

Ignoring the cracked stone surrounding me, the furbishing was impressive. The interior decorator definitely needed a raise. 

There were three separate 'living room' setups towards the center of the room. Each was fairly identical; a long, burgundy couch, matching armchair, circular wooden coffee table and an end table right next to the chair. Imagine walking into a vampire's living room-- yeah, that's exactly what it was like. They all surrounded a large circular rug in the middle, directly under the center of the dome ceiling. The rug took up a large portion of the floor-- probably about forty feet. Killian definitely wanted to pay homage to the fire I incinerated him in. The furniture, tables, even the rug was somehow related to a flame.

For example, instead of a snazzy lamp or crystal chandelier, each coffee table had a candelabra. They were silver-- very simple-- with three candles perched on the arms. Even the legs of all of the tables had flames carved into them. If that wasn't pyrotechnic enough for you, might I mention that many of the furniture pieces were covered in scorch marks? Are you starting to believe me that this guy was bonkers?

There were also about twenty people in the room apart from Loki and me. If I thought the fine group of people outside were shifty, these guys were Mafia-level shifty. We hadn't moved from the door since the goons outside closed it behind us, so not many people noticed our arrival.

At least, that's what I'd thought. I watched as a tall, attractive woman sauntered up to us. She had long, black hair that reached the middle of her back. Her face was thin with a sharp jawline, accompanied with large, red lips. Her blue eyes seemed to stare into my soul. In her tight black pants, red tube top and four-inch stilettos, she was taller than me. I tilted my head up to look at her as she stopped in front of me, smiling. Bright white teeth blinded me. 

"You look a little out of place, handsome," she purred, leaning close to my ear. I was so shocked that I didn't move away, I just turned my head to look at Loki. He grinned, folding his arms. Guess I had to get out of this one on my own. 

"I'm exactly where I need to be, thanks," I replied, digging my hands into my jean pockets. She was still very close to my face. Her breath smelled like cigarettes and peppermint. 

"Clearly," She mumbled, running a manicured nail up my arm. I shivered. This was so freaking weird. I looked at Loki again, who seemed very amused. I shot him a pleading gaze, and he finally got the hint. 

"Alright then," Loki said, stepping forward. He placed his hands on her waist, pulling her away from me. The woman turned her attention onto him, almost instantly forgetting about me. Loki was still taller than this scarlet woman by a full head, so it was her turn to look up at him. He still had his fingers pressed firmly on her hips, but they were now facing each other. She pressed up against him, her eyes roaming over his face and torso. He smiled lazily and moved his hand up to play with a strand of her hair. "Run along now," he said. 

With one final smirk, she turned on her heel and sashayed back to one of the couches, where she sat on the lap of another man. I stood there, dumbfounded, before looking at Loki. His eyes were already trained on me, and he was smirking again. 

I rolled my eyes as I walked past him to the groups of people. 

"What did she see? Brad Pitt?" I questioned as Loki fell into step next to me. 

"Oh, I wasn't glamoring her," He said, amused. My eyes widened. Loki didn't explain himself further-- instead, he quickened his pace to shoot past me. I had no witty remark-- Loki had left me speechless. I followed on his heels as he approached an armchair at the farthest corner of the room. There were five people in the tiny section; two men, two women, and the person sitting in the armchair. The one sitting had their back to us, but I was still horrified by the sight of them. The back of their head was burned so badly that hair no longer grew on one side. The burns didn't seem fresh-- they were all scarred over, but it still gave me chills. I realized now the being was a man, as he was wearing a satin red tuxedo. ONe of his hands seemed to be burned very bad as well, the one that was holding an elegant glass filled halfway with red wine. 

Without turning around, the man held up his free hand, and the group he was in silenced immediately. All four people, each with striking features and some type of red in their outfits, looked up at Loki and I.

"Look what we have here, my friends," the man in the chair said with a deep raspy voice. It was so familiar, it sent a chill through my bones. He set the wine glass on the table beside him before turning around slowly. I was greeted with a face that made me want to vomit my breakfast.

Half of the man's face was charred so bad, I could barely recognize it as human. The other half had large, white scars that ran from the collar of his shirt to his deep, brown eye. I imagine someone thrown into an incinerator would look the same as the poor sap standing in front of me. A large hole ripped through my stomach as he smiled.

"Tony Stark," Aldrich Killian greeted me, throwing his arms out on either side of him. "What a pleasure to see you again. We have so much to discuss."


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian and Tony interact... it doesn’t end pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING : Graphic language and violence. If you liked Killian before this, that’s about to change. I mean nothing I wrote about Pepper or Tony in this chapter, it’s purely to show Killian’s dark side.
> 
> Enjoy.

"I've got to say, Killian: I'm not a fan of your fire obsession," I said snarkily, gesturing behind him to the burning candle. He smiled, causing the burn marks on the left side of his face to crease even more. He was hideous. I tried really hard not to feel bad-- he was a murderer; a sociopath. Still, I felt a twinge of guilt when he was only able to blink one eye. 

"It's all thanks to you, Tony," he pointed out, folding his arms in front of him. "I wouldn't be the man I am today if it wasn't for you and Ms. Potts." I balled my fists at the mention of Pepper's name. He spoke the compliment as if it was a good thing that he was charred, but I could see the hatred burning behind his eyes. "How is Pepper these days, anyway?" He smiled, almost as if it was a threat. He was very infatuated with Pepper many years ago and would have had a successful superhuman if I hadn't foiled his plans. I wouldn't have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for you meddling superheroes-- and your suits too! 

I sent an icy glare in his direction. "You have no right to say her name."

"Ah, I see," he said slowly, noticing my tense posture. "So she's still stooped as low as you? The whore assistant doing her boss for the money-- I always hated women like that." His words shot through my body like adrenaline, and I clenched my jaw so hard that my teeth almost shattered. He was trying to get under my skin-- and it was working. 

"How did you survive the fire, Killian?" I asked shortly, using what little common sense I had left to not rip his head off. The man smiled again, shrugging. 

"My serum worked, Tony. I was so invincible that even your little slut girlfriend couldn't kill me with a charged blast. I was always smarter of the two of us, and that's been made clear. I managed to convince you I've been dead for the past six years-- I can't imagine how stupid you feel."

"I liked you better as ashes," I said, shaking from anger. I was using all my willpower not to blast him. Almost as if he could read my mind, he snapped his fingers and pointed at me. Just as quickly, two bulky dudes appeared on either side of me. In a swift motion, they each laid a large hand on the straps of my bag, ripping it off my back.

"Hey!" I shouted, reaching for it. One of the bouncer-looking men held it above my head like I was a younger sibling trying to get my toy back. The guy was easily seven feet tall, so there was no way I was going to reach it. Instead, I kicked the dude square in the crotch. He doubled over and I lunged for the bag. He had a sturdy grip on it, and my attempt failed. The other big dude grabbed my shoulders harshly and held me back. I futilely lunged the direction of the other guy again, who's eyes were watering. 

"Now, now, Stark," Killian said calmly as he waltzed over to me. He stopped a couple of feet away from me before leaning towards my face. His charred mug was even more nauseating from up close. "This is my house now, play nice,” he snarled. For good measure, I spit in his face.

He calmly leaned away from me, before pulling a white handkerchief out of his breast pocket. He wiped down the spot and threw the cloth on the floor. 

Then he smacked me hard across the face. 

I saw it coming, but I couldn't move. The big buffoon was still holding me from behind. I stood there in complete shock, my cheek tingling. 

"Whoa!" I heard Loki's voice yell, followed by quick footsteps. He appeared in my peripheral, holding his arms out in front of him. Everyone in the room was looking at the group of us now, whispering and pointing. A couple of dozen people had just seen me get slapped. I felt my face go red. 

"Laufeyson!" Killian growled, marching towards Loki. I saw the god's face shift for a moment-- pain-- before returning back to normal. Laufeyson-- the name clearly had some sort of meaning to him. A conversation for an entirely different time... if I even wanted to talk to Loki after this. I was still debating. 

"How dare you bring him here?" Killian snapped, shoving Loki back with a harch finger to his chest. Loki still stood there with his hands up, taking it. I felt my limbs go icy hot as I watched their exchange. 

"Leave him alone!" I howled, before the asshole holding me clamped a massive hand over my mouth. Everything I screamed after that was muffled-- including my long string of curse words. I was powerless-- all I could do was watch. 

"I had no choice," Loki said calmly. I had no idea how it was so easy for him to keep his temper in check. The air around him was still so regal, I believed he'd been trained by someone to keep his emotions contained. Maybe this Heimdall person? Nevertheless, Loki was in a completely different state of mind than Killian, whose face (the parts that didn't resemble well-done meat) was bright red. "We need your help with something," Loki explained. "Finding someone. A friend."

"Don't forget, Laufeyson, you still owe me a debt." Clearly, Loki's calm appearance had somehow lessened Killian's anger. He was talking quieter now, smoothing his suit-- even cracking a smile again. This man was absolutely nuts. 

"We'll do whatever you need us to do," Loki said quickly. I felt my eyes widen. I tried to vigorously shake my head, but the guy's meaty hand had locked my head in place. I was terrified-- what the Hell was Loki signing us up to do? Loki glanced over at me, and I desperately pleaded him to stop talking, but he returned his attention to Killian once again. 

"Anything, huh?" Killian clarified. Loki nodded. I rolled my eyes. "And all you need in return is the location of an old friend?" The room was silent, including me. My throat hurt from screaming and tears were unintentionally falling out of my eyes from the pain. I watched as Killian smiled maniacally, grabbing one of Loki's hands and shaking it viciously.

"Well, Loki, you always were a pushover," he said, almost as if it were a compliment. "Tell you what," he began, walking slowly back over to his armchair. The man that was holding me finally released me, and I forcefully pulled away from him. There were white marks from where he had his fingers clamped around my bicep, and I rubbed them furiously as I ran to stand next to Loki. He looked at me apologetically before turning back to Killian. I did the same. 

"There have been two cops that have been trying to uncover my operation in here," he explained, leaning back in his chair again. He winked at me, picking up his glass of wine. I wanted nothing more than to shove the glass down his throat, but Loki grabbed my wrist. I looked over at him, but he wasn't looking at me. It wasn't a nasty gesture-- it was a calming one. He let his hand linger for a second before returning it to his side. I felt my anger seep away with it. I glanced back at Killian, who'd finished his wine in on, long swig. 

"Kill the cops, and I'll help you find your friend."


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Tony have a conversation.  
> Loki... apologizes?

"You'd better have a damn good plan to get us out of this," I snapped at Loki, throwing my bag on my shoulder. They'd returned it after Killian had let us go. With meeting my arch-nemesis again and the fact I was a designated hitman, I had no idea why I stayed on this crazy adventure. My sense of mischief? This was far more than mischief. We were sent out to slaughter two cops in cold blood. If Loki believed we were going to do that, he was sorely mistaken. 

We were walking the sidewalk again, back the direction we'd come from. Killian had handed Loki a small device-- generally resembling an iPhone 5-- locked on a screen that looked like a digital map. It had thin green lines that most likely represented roads, with a blinking red dot that pinpointed our location. There were only two buttons on the block, a black ON/OFF button and a small red button that didn't seem to do anything when I'd pressed it. We were about five minutes away from the end of the alley when Loki checked behind him. When he seemed satisfied no one was following us, he turned towards me.

"Of course we're not killing anyone, Stark," Loki clarified. I breathed a sigh of relief-- I could have sworn Loki was leading me into a massacre. Seven years ago, it would have been a completely different response. It was a welcome reply, to say the least. One thing was still nagging in the back of my mind, however; something eating me from the inside-out.

"How do you know Aldrich Killian?" I asked him quietly, becoming very interested in my shoes. (Which, might I add, were a Vans x Iron Man collab-- very chic. I loved those shoes.) I saw Loki's face soften out of the corner of my eye. He looked down at me, opened his mouth, then quickly sealed it. We walked for another minute in silence, listening to each other's footsteps. Loki kicked a pebble and sighed, before abruptly stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. We were still a short ways out of town, so no one was around to inconvenience. I stopped as well, turning around to face him. 

"I didn't mean for any of that to happen," Loki explained, crossing his arms. He had sympathy in his gaze, and I felt my anger melt away once again. He was really good at the puppy-dog eyes, okay? Regardless, this jackass had me wrapped around his finger. I hated it. I really wanted to go home, but then I got to thinking about this grand adventure and never having to worry about Loki again. Long story short, I figured I'd probably stick around.

"If I'd have known he would have hit you, I--" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "-- I would have never gone to him for help." Loki looked at me, shocked-- as if he was surprised at what he'd just told me. I opened my mouth to respond, but he gently pushed past me, walking faster than before. I had to jog to catch up with him, and when I did, he began speaking again. His tone had changed though, into something much more formal. 

"On Asgard, we'd heard tales about a super-serum on Midgard-- one that was destroyed by Tony Stark. My fath-- Odin, couldn't take any chances. He sent me down as a scout to try and find any remnants of the serum, and my investigating led me to Aldrich. This was six years ago, and he and I kept in touch. I worked odd jobs for Killian-- a heist here, an attack there." He glanced over at me, his gaze was still steely. "Nothing as intense as murder." I nodded, trying my best to put myself in Loki's shoes. Did he see Killian as a threat? They obviously weren't friends, based on what I'd seen fifteen minutes prior. 

Almost as if Loki was reading my mind, he continued to speak again. 

"He was an informant. I do something that benefitted him, he would give me the location of someone or something that I needed to find. I thought that if we needed to find Heimdall, he would be the best person to go to. I know he's not trustworthy, but I decided to hedge my bets," Loki said, dodging around a group of people as we entered the city. There were people worming past us constantly now. It was around noon, so many business workers were on their lunch breaks. 

Pepper would be home by now. I felt my blood run cold, but did my best to mask my discomfort. As to not lose Loki in the crowd, I pressed my shoulder up against his-- rather, I pressed my shoulder up against his bicep. I hated being the shortest. 

"I didn't fulfill our last agreement deal, which is what Killian brought up in there. I was called back to Asgard, and it slipped my mind. The woman I had to locate was no longer a necessity, so I didn't see how beneficial it was to me to hold up my end of the deal," Loki explained, glancing down at the tracker in my hand. We were about a mile from the destination it was showing us. I would have assumed it was the police station but as the thought crossed my mind, we passed the station. 

"Who was it? That you were trying to find?" I asked, curious. Loki didn't look too pleased with the question, but he answered it regardless.

"An old flame of my brother's... it's not important now."

I silently wondered if this 'old flame' of Thor's had something Loki had needed, or if he was trying to find her out of the good of his heart. I couldn't see Loki doing something nice for no reason, so I eliminated the latter. 

"We're here," Loki said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked at the building we were standing in front of, and I was overwhelmed with confusion. 

"A club?" I questioned, turning towards Loki. He looked equally confused. "Are our cop buddies in there?" I asked as a followup, motioning towards the club door. I'd never known a club to be open at noon on a Friday, but anything is possible in this city. The door was guarded by a large bouncer, about 6'6. He was a bulky dude, with a black suit and aviators. Typical movie bouncer. He seemed to be turning away anyone that wasn't dressed like they were dripping jewels.

For example, Loki and I. 

"How are we meant to get in wearing this?" Loki asked, looking at my leather jacket and skinny jeans. I scanned the surroundings before my eyes landed on a small shop across the street. I smiled. In the window of this boutique were two very fancy suits. They were dressing snow-white mannequins, surrounded by a satin lining. 

"I have an idea," I said, pointing at the shop. I turned back to Loki as he smirked. 

"That could work."


End file.
